These Colours Don't Run
by TheannaTheWhite
Summary: Rehashed. War comes to Halkeginia from across an ocean thought to be endless. The largest conflict Halkeginia will ever know has already been sparked. Two Empires will fight to drive the other from the continent, and those who are the most unwitting will be caught in a brutal, horrifying war. Halkeginia will never be the same, better or for worse.


_These Colours Don't Run_

_Prologue_

The sun had long dipped below the mountains in the Kingdom of Tristain, casting the towers of the Academy of Magic in the cold glow of the twin moons. In early spring, it was a cool and brisk night. The Academy was a highly respected institution, renowned across all of Halkeginia. It had stood vigil for thousands of years, molding the minds of each new generation of Nobles.

Within those towering walls, Siesta of Tarbes felt no short amount of relief that another long day of hard work had finally wound down. Serving the Academy as a maid was a tall order. Her tasks may have seemed menial to most, but she knew if there was nobody around to do the laundry and the cooking the place would fall apart at the seams. Siesta didn't mind. It was a good job that paid well, so well in fact that her family's farm had been able to stay afloat solely because of her.

In the recent economy, however, even sending her family every denier she came across simply wasn't enough. The farm was on the cusp of failure. Her family had been forced to hastily sell the land, and were feeing what could likely end up being the wrath of an angry Lord. Siesta had gotten the letter in the morning. Today had been one of her longest days at work with so much troubling her mind.

The clicking of Siesta's shoes on the cold stonework was almost agonizing in the silence. The Tower of Earth was quiet tonight. It was just as well. Siesta wasn't in the mood to come face-to-face with any of the pompous children she had to listen to. The basket weighed heavily in her hands, but it was no matter. It was the last one of the night. The fresh laundry would be delivered first thing after classes had begun tomorrow morning, although Siesta would not be taking any part.

Siesta's family was leaving Tristain, the kingdom that had been her family's home for generations, for the island country of Albion. She had a rather successful uncle who ran an inn in Tristain's capitol. Siesta's immediate family had been close with her uncle Scarron for a time, since the untimely death of his wife during the delivery of Siesta's cousin, Jessica.

Scarron seemed to be branching out. He planned to have another inn opened in Albion, right in the heart of the capitol, Londinium. Following the news of the imminent failure of Siesta's family's farm, Scarron had done them an enormous favor by offering to have them run his new inn.

It was an amazing opportunity, of course. Turning it down would have been foolish. Siesta's family needed her, and she loved them so dearly. She had no choice but to leave Tristain for greener pastures. Certainly, she would miss some people around the Academy – especially one in particular.

Siesta stopped at the edge of Vestri Courtyard. It wasn't a particularly warm night, but her heavy black and white maid's uniform felt incredibly stuffy. Her heart still raced from stomping up and down the stairs with that heavy basket. A ways away, in a dark corner of the courtyard, Siesta spied a familiar figure hunched over a water fountain. He dutifully scrubbed away at his own basketful of laundry.

Saito was an oddity in these parts. Not only for his strange name, the even stranger clothing, or even for his exotic features. The Noble students had recently performed their Springtime Familiar Summoning a few weeks prior, bringing all manner of creatures into the school's walls. This year had seen some especially impressive summonings, the most notable being one very enormous, and frighteningly hungry wind dragon. Then, there was Saito.

Any commoner's knowledge of magic was dismal at best. All Siesta knew was that the Nobility could wield its power, and because of that they ruled over people like her. Even with that in mind, Siesta was well aware that summoning a human being as a familiar was unheard of – outright impossible, in fact. Human beings didn't become familiars. That honour had been reserved only for the animal kingdom. A real ruckus had been stirred up in the wake of Saito's appearance. A veritable hornet's nest. Rumours had spread like wildfire, between both students and staff.

The Academy's serving staff had taken a swift liking to Saito, the kitchen's head chef Marteau especially so. Everybody certainly felt some sympathy for the boy. Saito was a really down-to-earth kind of guy, and a generally nice person. It was such a shame his so-called master was the complete polar opposite.

Louise de la Valliére was known well around the Academy, for many reasons. She had a reputation amongst the Nobility as being the third daughter of the Duke and Duchess of la Valliére, the most prestigious and renowned family in all of Tristain. Amongst her peers she was known as 'Louise the Zero,' a girl who couldn't cast a single spell to her name. The serving staff couldn't bring themselves to care any less about all of that. They knew of Louise for her naturally abrasive nature.

Chef Marteau had quite the colourful vocabulary if one were to mention the pink-haired demon that stalked the Academy's corridors, bearing that perpetual scowl carved into her features. Siesta's face flushed at the thought of such language.

It seemed as if the Valliére girl had yet to give the poor boy a single break. Here he was, hunched over a fountain with arms red and raw from the freezing water, while his master was surely relaxing in the comforts of her lavish quarters. Siesta couldn't help but feel bad, though Saito did show certain adaptability, and that was a fact that couldn't be denied. Siesta served the Nobility in a similar manner, but she was at least paid for it. Saito wouldn't see a single coin – he was basically Louise de la Valliére's unwitting slave. Strangely, it didn't seem to be bothering him most of the time.

Siesta's admiration of the out of place familiar had come like a sudden sickness, though not quite as unpleasant. Despite being a mere commoner like herself, Saito had managed to stop the famous thief, Fouquet the Crumbling Dirt, with only a sword. Something like that just seemed so heroic to Siesta. It was like one of her novels had finally come to life.

Then, like icing on the cake, Saito had come to her rescue not long afterward. Siesta had been bound for a nightmare of a life, under the service of one of the worst kinds of Nobles. If wasn't as if she could have said no either. Somebody like her had no choice, no right to deny the birthright of the Aristocracy. Siesta often wished she could be somebody like Saito, who had no fear of the mages in his heart. It would be a lie to say she hadn't become at least a little enamoured by him.

Right about now Siesta would have felt an irresistible tugging at the edges of her mouth, but she just didn't have it in her. The frown on her face remained, perpetual like Louise's scowl.

The indecision was enough to flip her stomach. Should she say goodbye now, and tell Saito what was going on? The last time Siesta was supposed to leave the Academy she had made the decision not to say anything, and Saito had come running to save her. Would he do the same thing again? Siesta didn't need saving this time.

Siesta decided to just go and talk to the boy. At least then she might have some kind of closure. She approached the fellow youth from behind, unsure of exactly how she was going to begin. To start, she set the basket down. "Good evening, Mr. Saito."

From the slight jolt Siesta could have guessed that Saito hadn't heard her coming up on him. His head whirled, but he quickly relaxed with a smile. "Oh, Siesta," he greeted jovially. Saito turned back to his work. "You know, you really don't have to call me 'Mr. Saito' all of the time."

All Siesta could do for a moment was stand there and watch him work. She swallowed. "I just… wanted to tell you something."

Saito stiffened like a board. His working arms ground to a halt. "Y-yeah? What is it?"

Was that a blush on Saito's face? Siesta could hardly tell in the light. There wasn't any other way to say it, so Siesta decided to just come out and say it. "I leave… on the morrow."

Disbelief flew across Saito's face as he shot to his feet. "What? No way! You have to be joking!"

"I only wish that I was."

Saito tensed. "Don't tell me that some other Noble is –"

"No, no!" Siesta was quick to try and ease the boy's nerves. "It's nothing like that! It's…" She sighed. "I'm meeting with the rest of my family in Tristania, and then we leave for Albion."

The strange boy appeared three parts surprised, confused, and saddened. There was a short awkward silence that passed before Saito finally managed to break the silence. "But… why?"

Siesta frowned. "My family needs my help."

Saito opened his mouth to say something, but he halted. He seemed to rethink his words. "That's… good though, isn't it? I mean, I guess they really need you if they want you to leave, right? They _are_ your family."

In Siesta's mind Saito was a person always trying to make the best out of a bad situation. She could admire him for that. When Siesta found herself in an unfortunate situation she could only brood and accept the worst was to come. "I know," Siesta finally said quietly. "They really do need my help. I just… I'm going to miss you." Without warning, Siesta stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Saito's neck in a tight embrace. She buried her face in his shoulder, and had no doubts that she had taken him by some surprise. It took a few solid moments for the hug to be returned.

They remained that way for a few minutes, before Siesta hesitantly pulled away. She smiled weakly. "Take care of yourself," she told the boy. "Please, be careful."

Saito gave her a firm nod. "I will."

With nothing more to be said, Siesta picked up her basket of laundry and turned to leave. As she strode away, she found herself stalled by Saito's words.

"Hey!" Saito called. "We'll see each other again sometime, right?"

Siesta gave him one last glance. Her smile turned sad. "I hope so, Saito."

Saito stared after the maid until she disappeared into the next courtyard, and even then he stared off into space, lost in thought. Even somebody with his optimism knew that was likely the last time he was ever going to see Siesta again. Feeling fully resigned, Saito decided he had might as well just get back to work. At least it would keep his mind busy. When he turned around, he was shocked to find somebody standing directly behind him – somebody who was rather short, with a certain head of pink hair.

"L-Louise!" Saito sputtered out of fright. He placed a hand over his suddenly racing heart. "When did you get there?"

Louise de la Valliére rolled her maroon-coloured eyes. "Spare me your ignorance," she muttered unhappily. "What were you doing with that maid just now? Hm?"

He would have to tread lightly. "All she did was give me a hug, that's all!"

The dangerous look in Louise's eyes was getting worse by the second. "Why?"

"She was saying goodbye!"

"Why?"

"She's leaving!"

The danger seemed to flow away from Louise's face in an instant. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Oh. Well, good for her then. What's been taking you?"

"There's a ton of clothes here," Saito pointed out tiredly. "How do you even use all these? I don't get it."

Louise glared. "That is none of your business, _dog_. Just clean them."

"Right, right," Saito said. He turned back to the fountain, kneeling. "So why did you come down here?"

"Are you deaf?" Louise asked, annoyed. "I already asked what was taking you, did I not? As a kind and gracious master I must check on my familiar. I have to be sure that Zerbst wench doesn't sink her claws into you. If that happens then every boy in the Academy will be out to get you and then that stupid stalking sword won't even be enough to save you."

_Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason why, _Saito thought dryly to himself. He knew better than to say it out loud. That situation would only end at the wrong end of a riding crop.

It hadn't taken much longer for Louise to wander off. Saito suspected she had just come down to nag him simply because she was bored, and had probably ended up getting just as bored standing around watching him work in silence.

He began to wonder how life would be around here now that Siesta was leaving. Saito could count the people who were genuinely nice to him on one hand, and come tomorrow morning one of them would be gone for good. He paused in his work, and gazed up at the two moons hanging in the sky, red and blue.

All Saito truly wanted right now was to go home.

…

The Imperial Senate's caucus had ended much earlier than expected that evening, which was a blessing on everybody who had been stuffed up in that suffocating board room. The senators of the ten districts of the Columbian Empire had finally been in unanimous agreement on something. Jessamine Belmont thought that either the stars had aligned, or the end of the world was nigh.

"I certainly hadn't seen things going that way."

The Empress turned to regard her younger brother. He had the same blonde hair and green eyes, like every Belmont. Her two armoured escorts flanked her, looming. "I don't believe they had much choice in the matter," Jessamine told him as he sauntered closer. "Half of the navy is already mobilized."

"It _is_ strange to see them all agree for once," James Belmont commented. "Doesn't it make you wonder why?"

Jessamine turned swiftly. Her shoes clicked on the marble floor. "Windstone, brother. Worth its weight in gold, isn't it?"

"Of course," James said dryly. "Especially now with those _things_ you had commissioned."

A short, quiet snort escaped Jessamine. "A means to an end."

"The most expensive means to an end ever devised."

Jessamine stopped in the entrance of Brendenbury's city hall. Her brother wore an ensemble that closely matched her own – a white military blazer with golden epaulettes on the shoulders. The only real difference was that while Jessamine wore a tight knee-length skirt, her brother had obviously chosen a pair of trousers. The Belmont family had worn similar outfits for all important functions, even before they had taken over charge of the figurative throne.

"Are you going to come see it?" Jessamine asked, already knowing the answer. She stuck her thumb towards one of her escorts. "Or am I going to be stuck alone with two of the most humourless Imperial Guards in the history of mankind?"

James Belmont chuckled and rolled his eyes. "They're just doing their jobs, sister. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I have a menagerie of better things to be doing than skulking around the docks."

If it had been anybody other than her brother Jessamine might have had him thrown from a balcony for speaking to her like that. She needed some amount of levity in her life, and her dear brother James would have to do. He was her only true friend in the world since her husband's passing. Everybody else was all business. The Empress had only managed a single child for her Emperor, a girl she named Cordelia, who was barely thirteen. Jessamine was still a starry-eyed girl when she had been laid out on the delivery table, at the age of nineteen.

As it turned out, Cordelia wasn't far. Jessamine found her daughter on the steps of the city hall, hounding her escort for some reason or another. Her golden hair hung straight, a carbon copy of Jessamine's own. Cordelia had taken only one feature from her father – his cerulean blue eyes. Jessamine had allowed her daughter to stay their few nights on the east coast in Senator Bowdridge's estate. Cordelia was about the same age as Bowdridge's youngest daughter, and had been good friends since childhood.

Jessamine bit out a sigh. "Cordelia," she called.

The young girl whirled. "M-Mother!"

"You missed the meeting," Jessamine pointed out, unimpressed. Her daughter's escort was like her own, armoured and armed to the teeth. The plates were thick with layered enchantments, making them virtually impervious to small-arms fire. "And for God's sake, give Lieutenant Donovan a break. He's not a machine."

Her daughter pouted. She hadn't even known the name of her escort today, but her mother seemed to know every one of them. "Was the meeting important?"

"No, not at all," Jessamine said dryly. "We're only planning an invasion."

"But why should I have to go? I'm not even Empress yet!"

Jessamine walked, beckoning for her daughter to follow. Even the young Cordelia wore an outfit much like her own. "When your grandfather was Emperor I attended every one of the Senate's meetings from the age of seven. Do you know why?"

Cordelia stopped next to her mother on the sidewalk. A long black car was waiting. "Because you wanted to be a good Empress?"

"No," Jessamine answered quickly. "Because he _made_ me. Your grandfather was the one who wanted me to be a good Empress. I suppose since nobody's tried to murder me in my sleep yet it must have worked."

"Mother!" Cordelia groaned out loud. "I wish I wouldn't say things like that."

The Empress pulled open the door before one of her guard could even get to it. "Get in," she told her daughter. "We're going for a little ride."

Cordelia clambered into the back seat. "Where?"

"The docks." Jessamine fell into the seat next to her daughter, and the Imperial Guard fled to the vehicles forward and aft. The ride through the city would be a long one, especially during evening traffic when everybody was rushing to get home from work at the same time. Jessamine was patient enough. The docks weren't going anywhere, and she was interested to personally inspect what had arrived late last night.

"Why?" Cordelia whined. "The docks smell like fish."

Jessamine ignored that comment as the car eased into motion. "So explain to me how exactly you missed the meeting this morning," she asked pointedly. "Do _not_ tell me you overslept again."

Cordelia only avoided her mother's gaze, her cheeks flushing.

"Have I been giving you too much freedom?"

"No!" Cordelia cried. "I just… i-it was an accident! Everybody sleeps in, Mother!"

"Somebody invented the alarm clock for a reason, didn't they?"

Cordelia pouted. "I forgot to set it."

Jessamine's daughter was as absent minded as they came. Another trait the girl inherited from her father. In her younger years Jessamine wouldn't have dared to miss an important meeting. Her father's wrath would have been swift and unyielding. "Need I remind you that you're going to be Empress one of these days?"

"Why won't Uncle Jamie be Emperor after you? He should be next in line."

"Oh my dear, your Uncle couldn't even run a gas station," Jessamine told her, laughing. Her brother was merely along for the ride, as he once said. "I believe he fully plans to pass it on to you."

"Can he really do that?"

"He can if I allow it."

Cordelia stared through the window. She wished there would have been some pleasant scenery, but none of that was to be found in downtown Brendenbury. Only the unhappy concrete buildings that towered over the streets and the other cars stuck in traffic. She hit the button on the arm rest, dropping the window a few inches.

On the other side of the car Jessamine did the same with her own window. She lit a filtered cigarette. "Don't look so glum. Tons of girls would love to be you."

"Why?" Cordelia asked despondently. "It's suffocating."

Jessamine couldn't help but be reminded of herself. She had loathed the idea of becoming the Empress even more than her daughter. The only reason she could rest easy was knowing that Cordelia wasn't nearly so rebellious has she had been during her youth. Cordelia didn't sneak out through her window on the third floor and climb down the gutters. Jessamine had done that more times than she could remember. Thinking back on it, Jessamine couldn't believe herself. Doing something insane like that was just suicidal.

It was a suffocating upbringing for any child. Jessamine had felt like a bird in a cage growing up, and she knew all too well that she had passed that misery on to her daughter. For that reason Jessamine had graced her daughter with so much more freedom than she had. It seemed all Cordelia had done with that was sleep in and be annoyed at the Imperial Guard for following her everywhere.

The docks, thankfully, were getting closer. Brendenbury didn't host the largest skyport in the Empire, but it was the largest along the east coast. Through the gaps between warehouses and other industrial facilities Jessamine could see the tall lattice towers, lights blinking red. When they passed through the security gate Jessamine could see what was really waiting in Brendenbury's harbour. The most massive thing she had ever laid eyes on.

After the cars had stopped Jessamine eagerly stepped out, almost instantly flanked by her Imperial Guard. Cordelia stepped ahead of her, mouth agape. She shot several hurried glances at her mother. "I… I cannot believe you had _this_ built!"

Jessamine hadn't designed the thing. She had merely given the green light. "It certainly is quite a lot larger than I imagined."

Military ships floated gracefully in the air, idle. All around them dockworkers scrambled about like mad ants. Despite having forced most of the fishing and cargo ships to find port elsewhere, Jessamine had created a rather noticeable boom in local work, for the time being at least. Cargo was steadily fed into the gaping mouths of the sky destroyers, readying them for war. They had flat superstructures, bulbous hulls with ballasts of refined windstone, and dozens of cannons along their decks.

Then there was the Cambridge, one of three ships Jessamine had specifically commissioned. It was an aircraft carrier, but one unlike any of the others. For now it was one of a kind, while the remaining two were under construction and being put through the navy's trials. It was a massive thing beyond words, without a doubt the largest ship Columbia had ever produced. Jessamine was willing to wager it was the biggest ship in the entire world.

The hull seemed to stretch on forever. At just over three-thousand feet, the ship was nearly a kilometer long. The full length of the deck was covered in aircraft with folded wings, aircraft meant to unleash a hailstorm of paratroopers.

"We're really going to go to Halkeginia, on _that?_"

Jessamine grinned. She couldn't wait to see everybody's faces. "Yes, we are."

Known as the White Isle, the Kingdom of Albion was old, thousands upon thousands of years. The Columbian Empire was rather new in comparison – it was only a thousand years old. Jessamine's ancestors had hailed from that ancient White Isle all those generations ago. She would be the first of her lineage to go back, and she was going back with a vengeance.

The late Emperor Belmont, like nearly all those before him, had decreed that returning to that barbaric land across the sea was a needless endeavor. Jessamine had never agreed. Soon after her father's passing Columbians had set foot on Halkeginian soil, unbeknownst to the Old Kingdoms and anybody outside of the Senate. The Columbian Senate had a clear picture of how things were going over there. In the last thousand years, almost nothing had changed.

It was barbaric, and crude. The Columbian Empire hadn't annexed another country into its banner in hundreds of years, so Albion would be the first after such a long time. The civil unrest reported in Albion would make things all the better. Perhaps her soldiers would be seen as saviours, who had swiftly dealt the crushing blow to a rebellion. It would be advantageous.

When people discovered how things were done in Columbia they would flock to it. Freedom, equality, and justice. Jessamine would no longer stand idly by.

The freight elevator lurched into motion. The dock workers began to shrink. "The people of Halkeginia suffer in tyranny," Jessamine told her daughter. "And nobody wants to do anything about it, except for me."

"Will they become part of the Empire?"

"Whether they like it or not."

Cordelia gave her mother a smirk. "You're evil."

Jessamine barked out a laugh. Some people were certainly going to see things that way. She would be a liberator to some, and a conqueror to others. There was true evil in the world, and Jessamine was sure that she wasn't it. Far to the south another empire lurked. The Pannonian Empire had spread like a plague for a few hundred years or so. They had a track record of blatant racism, and discrimination.

Such things were not tolerated in Columbia. Lessons learned from the hardships suffered in Halkeginia had stuck with Columbia's founding father, but it seemed others had taken them in different ways. Hatred of mages, and all non-human species was not uncommon. The rumors of genocide within Pannonia's borders had faded with the end of the last war. Jessamine could only hope they had found some sense.

The elevator stopped. Jessamine stepped out onto the Cambridge's deck. She didn't know if it was masterful engineering, or blind luck, but this massive thing had already blown her expectations away.

Halkeginia had better be ready. Jessamine sported a shark-like grin as she strolled down the length of the deck. She was coming, and if the Halkeginians weren't smart about it she would be bringing hell along for the ride

…

_I got a lot of PM's wondering of the whereabouts of this particular story. I've decided to try my hand at it again. Hopefully the quality is a little higher this time around. _


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